Kyle

Taiwanese, A creator of fan works, a devoted fan of The Lord of the Rings and Fate series, who frequently writes fanfiction and occasionally draws. AO3：https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylehuang （My native language is Chinese, so my written works are presented in Chinese. If you wish to read them, it might be a bit challenging.）

[kyle-h213846]

Recently, I went back and revised some of my older illustrations, and I also drew Angrod, a character whose image I’ve long wanted to develop for my novel.

[kyle-h213846]

Got around to drawing Caranthir again recently.

With his hair down, he looks a bit softer; tying his hair up, on the other hand, can be seen as something he does when he’s being serious.

[kyle-h213846]

This is how Caranthir looks with his hair down. I've been writing a lot about him lately and wanted to establish a visual image for the character in the story, so I casually used the ballpoint pen nearby.

[kyle-h213846]

Morifinwë didn’t feel like talking today either.（7）

If you want to view it on AO3, please click the following link.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63585859/chapters/162961222

（Just a heads-up: This story focuses on Angrod and Caranthir. There will be some romance between them, but the main tone will be more lighthearted and humorous.）

19.

"Everyone got the itinerary, right?"

"Got it."

The six brothers answered in a scattered chorus, lounging or sprawling in such relaxed poses that they looked more like cats basking in the afternoon sun than a group of ancient Elves.

"Just a quick reminder—this schedule was finalized after collecting input from all sides and going through some negotiation. Take a look. If you have any questions, feel free to bring them up anytime…"

"Wait a second. Didn’t you say you’d take our suggestions into account?"

After skimming through the content on the paper, Celegorm was the first to raise his hand and question it.

"But I don’t see anyone’s ideas in here. Macalaurë, did you maybe grab the wrong version?"

"First of all, I said I’d take your opinions into account within reason—not adopt them unconditionally. Second… have you all actually looked at what you wrote?"

Recalling the mental torment he had suffered trying to combine everyone’s input into a travel plan that would please anyone, Maglor—usually the picture of calm—actually showed visible signs of irritation.

"'Elves with Vanyar blood are not permitted to join this family trip'—really? Could you be any more obvious with the target here? Why not just write out the names of every member of Fingolfin and Finarfin’s households while you’re at it?"

"Ooh, that sounds like a great idea. Somebody hand me a pen—ow, ow, ow!"

Before Curufin could get a pen from Ambarussa, the ear closest to Maedhros had already been seized. A scream worthy of a crime scene immediately rang through the halls of the House of Fëanor.

"Big Brother, let go! My ear’s about to fall off! And I distinctly remember Mandos saying they don’t offer part-specific body restoration!"

20.

“So, just to confirm—the people listed here are the ones who 'won’t' be joining the trip?”

Chaos was nothing new in this household, and Caranthir, having long since grown used to it, ignored his suffering brother entirely. His voice remained unusually calm.

“Correct. Fingon and Finrod already checked for me. Since Elrohir and Elladan finally sailed West, Idril and Tuor have been visiting Elrond’s house almost every day. As for Orodreth, he said he wants to spend more time with Ereinion and Finduilas, but it seems they’re not too interested in traveling, so they won’t be coming along either.”

Maglor was still gathering the papers that had been scattered all over the floor thanks to the earlier commotion, only pausing briefly to answer Caranthir’s question.

“What about Celebrimbor?”

“You did ask him, right, brother?”

Faced with back-to-back questions from Amrod and Amras, Maglor gave a sidelong glance at their fifth brother, who was still hissing in pain as he held his now-swollen ear. Then, without a change in expression, he delivered the final blow.

“Maedhros asked him yesterday. He said that if Father is going, then he’s sitting this one out. Apparently, he has no desire to spend the whole trip keeping an eye on an overgrown child prone to emotional outbursts. He said that sounded more dangerous than facing Sauron alone in the House of the Mírdain.”

“……”

Watching Curufin deflate like a punctured balloon at those words, Caranthir gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

And suddenly, his life didn’t feel quite so bad anymore.

21.

Morifinwë wasn’t in the mood to talk today, but that didn’t stop others from coming over to greet him.

“Hi, how have you been, child?”

“…More or less fine, I guess.”

There was no polite way for Caranthir to ignore Finarfin’s friendly greeting, no matter how much he might have preferred silence. And to be honest, ever since he’d first heard of the upcoming family trip, one particular question had been nagging at him—something he could finally ask now.

“Uncle… I want to know. Why did you agree to this trip?”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“It’s been a long time since we were all together like this—well, ever since those things happened, the three families have kept in touch, sure, but not closely enough to go on a trip together. Even if this was Grandfather’s idea, you still had every reason to decline. So why agree?”

He cast a glance around. Curufin and Turgon’s conversation had clearly devolved into a full-blown argument. Aredhel and Galadriel were strolling arm in arm, chatting away with animated delight. And Maedhros and Fingon were inspecting all the saddles to make sure absolutely nothing went wrong.

Caranthir couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen all of them in one place.

“A lot has happened, yes,” Finarfin said, his voice light. “Which is exactly why we need a chance to reconnect. A chance to strengthen what we still have.”

From the warm, open smile on Finarfin’s face, Caranthir could almost see Angrod’s reflection—father and son both had a way of framing things positively, sometimes almost absurdly so. But somehow, it helped. It made things feel a little less complicated.

“…But aren’t you worried Father and Uncle will start fighting again?”

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Finarfin said confidently. “They’re thousands of years old, Caranthir. They’re leaders of entire houses. You don’t really think they’d still act like hot-headed elflings, do you? That would be incredibly childish.”

“EVERYONE! CAN SOMEBODY COME HELP ME OVER HERE, PLEASE?!”

Celegorm’s voice rang out across the courtyard with all the clarity of a war horn. Everything stopped.

“Father and Uncle are fighting again!”

“…”

“…”

So… why again?

[kyle-h213846]

Morifinwë didn’t feel like talking today either.（6）

If you want to view it on AO3, please click the following link.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63585859/chapters/162961222

（Just a heads-up: This story focuses on Angrod and Caranthir. There will be some romance between them, but the main tone will be more lighthearted and humorous.）

16.

“Son, how was your date today?”

Faced with his father's question, Angrod turned toward him, his face marked with exhaustion—and a clearly visible bruise. All he felt was helpless resignation, especially seeing Finarfin’s mischievous smile that made it obvious he was just here to enjoy the show.

“Dad, you know it. That wasn’t a ‘date’—it was pure torture from start to finish.”

“Really? But I thought you and Caranthir seemed to be getting along quite well. At least you’re still willing to go out together, and he’s not entirely refusing to talk to you.”

Hearing what Finarfin said, and recalling how the two of them bickered and argued nonstop the entire time they were out, Angrod managed to force a twitch of a smile.

“Getting along? If that counts as getting along, then by the standard of Finrod and Turgon’s friendship, they should already be planning a wedding. I honestly don’t see what part of that qualifies as ‘getting along.’”

To be fair, Caranthir had definitely not held back during that beating. Even though Galadriel had patched him up a bit after dinner, the bruised area was still throbbing faintly with pain.

“For those hot-tempered Fëanorians, that was pretty peaceful, actually.”

Finarfin patted his son’s back in an attempt to comfort him—only to trigger a visible flinch from Angrod, since the spot he’d hit happened to be exactly where the punch had landed hardest.

“Well, at least he didn’t go as far as swearing to Ilúvatar before leaving, right?”

“…”

17.

Morifinwë had no intention of speaking today either, but as life would have it—damn life always found a way to force him into opening his mouth.

“What? Are you sure you’re actually speaking Quenya, Maedhros?”

“I didn’t misspeak, Moryo. I believe your brain is still functioning, so please remember—the one under Mandos’ restriction isn’t me, it’s you.”

Maedhros silently folded the letter in his hands, slipped it into an envelope, and carefully sealed it with red wax and a signet stamp.

“Maglor told me yesterday. Apparently there’s going to be a big family gathering involving all three houses. It’s supposed to be a short trip, and and they’re currently knee-deep in planning everything out. The formal invitations to our uncles will go out soon.”

“That’s absolutely insane. You know perfectly well Father and Uncle never get along—any time they’re in the same room it’s either sarcasm or a screaming match. Whoever came up with this idea must be utterly 'brilliant’, perfectly ’sane’, and absolutely ’pure of heart’.”

To Caranthir, whoever had thought of this was a complete idiot with a mean streak, because every Elf in Valinor knew the history between their three houses.

But then he noticed something strange—Maedhros, who would normally at least hum noncommittally to humor him, had suddenly gone quiet, his face marked by a complicated expression. Caranthir was confused.

“What? Don’t tell me I’m wrong. Would you enjoy watching two Elves in their ten-thousands get into a fistfight halfway through a trip?”

“Moryo… do you know who came up with the idea?”

“Who?”

“Our grandfather. Finwë.”

“……”

“Also, since you started talking about how Father and Uncle never get along… Father has been standing right behind you.”

“……”

Seeing Fëanor behind him, looking mad enough to set something on fire just by glaring, Caranthir—for the first time in his life—began to resent his father’s excellent grasp of languages. Because now, he didn’t even have the chance to lie his way out of it.

18.

“Turgon?”

Maglor was a little surprised to find that today’s visitor was Turgon, the younger brother—especially since, when he had asked for advice about the travel plans, it was with his elder brother Fingon.

“Why are you the one coming to me? Where’s your brother? Where did he go?”

Hearing the question, the Lord of Gondolin sighed, pulled out a chair, and sat down with practiced ease.

“You know where he went. It’s the same reason why you’re the one in charge of planning this trip, and not Maedhros.”

“…Okay, say no more. I get it.”

Anytime Maedhros slipped out of the house without a word, Maglor could guess with 99% certainty that Fingon had something to do with it.

“The topic you discussed with my brother earlier—I’ve gone over it briefly with Finrod. Honestly, we don’t really have any objections to the itinerary. It’s just…”

Turgon cleared his throat. Normally decisive and straightforward, he now seemed a little hesitant, which made Maglor tilt his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

"We’d prefer, if possible, to avoid any boat-related water activities on this trip. Considering… certain historical events, every time a Noldo gets involved with a ship, things go downhill fast, something somewhere catches fire—and the Valar probably start praying it’s not Aman again."

“…Alright. Noted.”

Lessons from history—everything came back to lessons from history.

[kyle-h213846]

I delight in the sight of Elven tresses dancing upon the wind—so graceful, so fair.Especially Maedhros's red hair; in my imagination, it's like a mass of crimson flame, swirling and curling in the air.

[kyle-h213846]

Morifinwë didn’t feel like talking today either.（5）

If you want to view it on AO3, please click the following link.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63585859/chapters/162961222

（Just a heads-up: This story focuses on Angrod and Caranthir. There will be some romance between them, but the main tone will be more lighthearted and humorous.）

13.

"…So I said." "What?" "Can you stop 'crying' ?! And why did you do that just now?" Once they were finally out of sight from the crowd, Angrod hastily explained himself in response to Caranthir’s furious questioning, doing his best to make them look less like a quarreling grandfather and grandson. "I wasn’t trying to mock you. It’s just… it felt so novel! This is my first time experiencing what it’s like to help an old man walk!" After all, no matter how old an Elf became, their body remained forever youthful. And since no elder had ever set foot in Valinor before, Angrod had rarely—if ever—had the chance to interact with the elderly. "Don’t act like you’ve never met a human before! Back in Middle-earth, wasn’t your family quite close with them? Surely you’ve made human friends? Never visited them when they grew old?" "Of course I did! But I forgot—Elves and Men perceive the passage of time differently. By the time I remembered I should visit them, all I could see were their graves." "…"

14.

Morifinwë didn’t feel like talking today. But now, he had no choice—if only to steer the conversation away from anything related to old age as quickly as possible. “Can we stop talking about old people?” “But you look just like a real old man right now.” “That’s exactly why I don’t want to talk about it!” Disguising himself with Gandalf’s appearance might have spared him from rumors while out and about, but Caranthir had no intention of keeping up the act for long. Just imagining his brothers’ reactions if they saw Olórin walking into his room alone was enough for him to foresee all kinds of misunderstandings. Seeing Caranthir’s hair and beard left in a complete mess by the elflings, Angrod tried his best to offer some words of comfort—to make his cousin feel a little less miserable. “But honestly, I think it suits you! Just look at how heartwarming your interaction with the little ones was earlier! It was just like a grandfather playing with his grandchildren—” “…You can leave out that last part.”

15.

They had been wandering around outside for nearly half a day. It wasn’t until dusk that the spell finally wore off—a moment Caranthir welcomed with immense relief. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to go home still wearing Gandalf’s face. “And why does a disguise spell still let you feel pain?!” Elves never grew beards, so they had no experience with the sensation of having one yanked. Now, however, Caranthir had been thoroughly enlightened. His scalp and chin still throbbed with lingering pain. At last, he understood why Gimli had shouted "Not the beard!" at Legolas in the Moria. “If you had been in my position, you definitely wouldn’t think those little elves were cute.” “Why not? They were adorable!” “Because when it comes to handling old men, they’re as rough as Orcs. If they keep this up, Olórin will soon become the first bald Maia.” “Comparing those sweet little elves to Orcs? That’s quite rude of you, Caranthir.” Angrod’s mild rebuke didn’t make Caranthir feel even slightly remorseful. “Try taking care of them for a whole day yourself, and you’ll understand. Some of those elflings are even scarier than Orcs. Maedhros would know this better than anyone.” “Oh? So what you’re saying is… that means you used to be an Orc too?” “…” It was on that day, Angrod learned a very important lesson—Caranthir’s language abilities may have been restricted, but he could still throw a punch. Then, the two wounded Orcs went their separate ways home like that.

[kyle-h213846]

Amrod in my imagination.

Amrod and his twin brother are among the rarer twin characters in the story, and there are relatively few descriptions of him. What left the deepest impression on me was a version of The Silmarillion in which he or his brother perished when the ships were burned at Losgar.

I've heard that real-life twins sometimes share a unique bond or sense of connection. If these twins had something similar, it could have led to many interesting stories—especially considering they had five older brothers.

[kyle-h213846]

Morifinwë didn’t feel like talking today either.（4）

If you want to view it on AO3, please click the following link.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63585859/chapters/162961222

Before you start reading, please note that if certain words are enclosed in '', it means their meanings have been reversed (e.g., "even 'worse' idea"). Also, some old friends will be mentioned this time, which makes me very happy. I hope you all enjoy reading. Lastly, if you have any thoughts or suggestions, feel free to leave a comment below!

（Just a heads-up: This story focuses on Angrod and Caranthir. There will be some romance between them, but the main tone will be more lighthearted and humorous.）

＊＊＊

10.

The arrival of several Hobbits and Dwarves was like a stone thrown into still waters, stirring up quite a commotion in this blessed land that had enjoyed millennia of peace. The Elves, aside from being surprised by these visitors from afar, were also eager to engage with them. After all, the clash of different cultures always brought novelty and fresh amusement—something they, with their near-infinite lifespans, greatly needed. This was also why Caranthir had decided to venture out. One of the few remaining sources of joy for him was expanding his business empire, making it necessary to study market trends. “…Must you dress like a thief?” Angrod had initially thought that the worst-case scenario would be seeing Caranthir arrive in full armor and with a longsword for their meeting. Never had he imagined that there could be an even worse option.

11.

"Or do you plan to act as my voice the entire time, speaking to the other Elves on my behalf, 'dear cousin'?" Tightening the gray hood and mask that nearly covered his entire face, Caranthir spoke through gritted teeth, his irritation barely concealed. "I'd rather not have any more bizarre rumors circulating, like some nonsense about a ‘forbidden romance that transcends the enmity of two great houses.’" "But don't you think wearing such an outfit that completely hides your face only makes you more suspicious? If you're going to disguise yourself, at least choose something less conspicuous." "Oh, sure. That’s easy for you to say. Unless you have an even 'worse' idea? If so, I'd love to hear it." Rather than getting angry at Caranthir’s sarcasm, Angrod lowered his head in genuine contemplation. After a moment, he earnestly offered his suggestion. "Personally, I think disguising yourself as a Dwarf would be ideal. Gimli once told me that a defining trait of Dwarves is their thick beards. So, if we can find a fake beard large enough to cover half your face, it might just work." "...And what kind of logic makes you think that a Dwarf as tall as an Elf strolling through the streets would seem perfectly normal?" Putting aside the height issue for now, the mere presence of a Dwarf other than Gimli in the Valinor could be enough to get him arrested for illegal entry.

12.

Morifinwë must not speak today. Just a few minutes ago, he had a chance encounter with Gandalf, who was journeying far and wide. Upon accepting the Maia’s offer, he allowed him to cast a spell—one that was supposedly meant to provide him with the perfect disguise. Caranthir would soon realize that this was, without a doubt, one of the worst decisions he had ever made. While the disguise did indeed prevent the rumors from escalating further, walking around in a crowded place while wearing Olórin’s appearance was far from a wise choice. The Elves who adored the Maia never missed an opportunity to approach him, enthusiastically engaging in all sorts of interactions. So, when Angrod was momentarily forced to look away, exchanging pleasantries with other Elves for a few minutes, he turned back—only to find Caranthir struggling under a swarm of tiny Elflings clambering onto him, all clamoring to see his fireworks display. This made him look like a walking Christmas tree. …Save me. That was the only phrase Angrod could barely make out from the lips that were almost entirely concealed beneath a cascade of white beard.

[kyle-h213846]

Morifinwë didn’t feel like talking today either.（3）

I’ll be making some changes to the update schedule, but in principle, updates will be posted on Sundays—unless I have other matters to attend to. This is just a simple announcement. If you have any thoughts or feedback about the story, feel free to leave a comment below. Wishing you all a wonderful day! 😊

The link to the previous article.

Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your

Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your

If you want to view it on AO3, please click the following link.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

（Just a heads-up: This story focuses on Angrod and Caranthir. There will be some romance between them, but the main tone will be more lighthearted and humorous.）

＊＊＊

7.

“What are you so angry about?”

“Do I need to answer that? Don't you care that the 'facts' are being spread around?”

Ever since that unexpected episode, he had been forced to face his brothers' teasingly ambiguous glances for days on end. Caranthir was on the verge of losing his mind, but he had to hold his breath and explain himself to them—only for the curse to occasionally throw everything into even greater confusion.

“It's just a rumor, what's there to be angry about? You and I both know that elves have a near-infinite lifespan, and if we don't find a way to add a little spice to our lives, it's easy to fall into depression.”

“Oh? So what you're saying is that you don't care at all about being a 'hero' and entertaining the masses, do you?”

“No, I'm not interested in being a clown at all. It's just that, you know, being part of a royal family, you have to get used to it sooner or later. And this kind of unfounded gossip will die down on its own in time.”

Angrod, who inherited his father's gentle character, was quite calm, he didn't feel nervous compared to the furious Caranthir, and he couldn't understand why Caranthir was so angry.

“Then again, no matter from what angle, I'm the one who should be angry, right? Because this rumor makes it sound like I have a masochistic streak, that I'm attracted to an elf who keeps insulting me.”

“......”

8.

Morifinwë not only had no desire to speak today, but even his willingness to step outside was plummeting.

The moment he set foot beyond the door, someone would have to follow him. For an elf who had lived for thousands of years, being forced to relive the experience of needing adult supervision just to go outside was beyond frustrating.

Caranthir had protested against this arrangement before, but Maedhros had coldly thrown back a single sentence: “You can either have someone follow you, or go out alone, say the wrong thing, and be misunderstood. Your choice.”

Despite his deep reluctance, he had ultimately chosen the former over the latter.

But the lack of privacy wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was that, of all elves, the one accompanying him today happened to be the one he despised the most.

9.

"Why am I the one taking him out today?"

Angrod wasn't exactly busy, but that didn’t mean he wanted to go out—especially not with a cousin who had never particularly liked him.

"Because everyone else happens to be occupied today, and there's no one available to keep an eye on Moryo, so Maedhros came to ask for our help."

Blinking his striking blue eyes, Finrod noticed that his younger brother seemed ready to complain further. Before that could happen, he casually offered a solution.

"Or would you rather go to Tirion and attend a council meeting with Uncle ? If that’s the case, I’d be more than happy to trade places with you..."

"Fine, I get it. What time are we leaving?"

Compared to sitting across from Curufinwë in a council chamber, spending a day outside with Morifinwë seemed like the safer option. At the least, Morifinwë wouldn’t be parading through the streets in full armor with a longsword strapped to his side.

[kyle-h213846]

Finarfin in my imagination.

Compared to his two brothers, Finarfin was clearly gentler and exhibited more characteristics of the Vanyar Elves, which is why there are fewer records about him.

However, I believe that his decision to return to Valinor was even more difficult than leaving it. He had to face the consequences of Fëanor’s kin-slaying while also bearing the loss of many loved ones, including Fingolfin and his children.

In my eyes, he is a gentle yet strong elf. He is probably the one who gets along best with other elves among the three brothers—just look at his son, Finrod, and you’ll understand.

[kyle-h213846]

Just a cute Fingon.

I plan to find time to complete the other family members I haven't drawn yet, but only after finishing my other work first. However, my fanfiction still hasn't reached the progress I hoped for.

[kyle-h213846]

Morifinwë didn’t feel like talking today either.（2）

Regarding the restrictions on Caranthir, I believe I need to clarify the details of these limitations.The so-called "turning words into their opposite meaning" can be best illustrated with a simple example: if he intends to say "yes," what actually comes out will be "no." In other words, any word Caranthir speaks that has an antonym has a chance of being reversed.

(However, if the words are related to insults, the reversal rate becomes 100%.)

If a statement includes numbers, food, or other items with multiple options, there is a certain probability of distortion. For example, if he intends to say "1," it may come out as a different number instead. However, since Mandos has not disclosed the exact probability, this falls into the category of "events that can happen probabilistically but do not necessarily occur every time."

If he tries to exploit loopholes in the rule—such as intending to say "yes" but deliberately thinking "no" in an attempt to reverse the spoken word—it will not work. Don't ask why; the restriction was set by the Valar. After Morgoth’s previous deceptions, they have learned to be more vigilant about loopholes in their terms.

So when Caranthir attempted to insult Mandos, what actually came out were words of praise. This happened because all insults are automatically reversed into compliments under the rule, leading to that outcome. I apologize if my explanation is a bit complex. If anything is unclear or if there are issues with my wording, please feel free to leave a comment. I'll try to come up with a simpler explanation.

Additionally, today’s passage will briefly mention Maedhros and Fingon, another pairing that I personally love. And if you enjoy this fan fiction, feel free to leave a comment or share your thoughts!

The link to the previous article.

Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your

If you want to view it on AO3, please click the following link.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63585859/chapters/162961222

（Just a heads-up: This story focuses on Angrod and Caranthir. There will be some romance between them, but the main tone will be more lighthearted and humorous.）

＊＊＊

4.

Morifinwë didn’t feel like talking again today.

It happened because, upon seeing Fëanor finally released from the Halls of Mandos this morning, he was so overwhelmed with joy that he completely forgot about his restriction. With tears in his eyes, he loudly demanded that his father leave the house immediately.

And then, he nearly became the victim of the Fourth Kinslaying.

Though afterward, Caranthir suddenly felt a tinge of regret—returning to the Halls of Mandos might actually be easier than staying outside. At the very least, his brothers wouldn’t have to deal with the daily hassle of acting as his interpreter.

5.

"Talking to Moryo now feels like being forced into a riddle game—one with multiple-choice answers."

Maglor had been doing his best to hold it in, but the moment he started talking to Finrod, the floodgates burst open.

"Aside from Father and our eldest brother, who always guess right on the first try, the rest of us are just throwing out wild guesses—and if we get it wrong, we get absolutely roasted."

"Insults? He can still manage to insult you?"

"Anyone with a shred of common sense would notice. I mean, most Elves don’t look like they’re about to commit murder when they say, ‘I’m so happy."

"……"

6.

"You were really cursed by Mandos… uh, no, I mean, restricted?"

Sure enough, good news never travels far, but gossip spreads like wildfire. It didn’t take long for the news of Mandos placing restrictions on him to make its way through three entire families. Even Angrod—the one he clashed with the most—went out of his way, for once, to confirm it in person when they crossed paths.

Faced with Angrod’s (what Caranthir saw as) highly provocative question, his fury soared—but in his outrage, he completely failed to notice that his string of furious insults had somehow turned into a fiery, passionate confession. Of course, this provided the other Elves present with an excellent new piece of gossip.

After the ever-ambiguous relationship between Maedhros and Fingon, yet another of Fëanor’s sons had now been caught up in a rumor with a cousin—this time, with someone from Finarfin’s line.

As a result, Finwë, as the family patriarch, couldn’t help but feel that the ties between his descendants were growing ever more tangled.

[kyle-h213846]

Maeglin in my imagination.

Maeglin’s life was undoubtedly filled with tragedy.

While part of it was due to his own obsessions, upon reevaluating his life, I feel that his father, Eöl, also had a significant impact on him.

The thought that he became an orphan within two days is heartbreaking—something incredibly difficult to endure. This must have had a profound effect on his mental state and was likely one of the reasons that led to the later tragedies.

I truly wish Aredhel had not passed away. If she had lived, perhaps things wouldn’t have turned out so terribly. But that is only a possibility, because there are no "what-ifs" for things that have already happened.

[kyle-h213846]

Finduilas in my imagination.

She was one of the people caught up in Morgoth’s curse, and every time I read about her story, I can’t help but sigh.

Sure, part of this tragedy was caused by her changing affections. But in the end, she paid the price—she still died because of the curse.

But when I think about how everything played out, I can’t help but wonder—was it really Morgoth’s curse on Húrin, Doom of Mandos coming true, or maybe both?

[kyle-h213846]

Morifinwë didn’t feel like talking today either.

This is an attempt. I wrote this piece in a short-story style and used a translation tool. I hope the meaning hasn’t changed too much in the process.

If you enjoy this fan fiction, feel free to leave a comment or share your thoughts! That way, I’ll know whether I should continue doing this. Since my native language is Chinese, the original text was written in Chinese as well.

Just a heads-up: This story focuses on Angrod and Caranthir. There will be some romance between them, but the main tone will be more lighthearted and humorous.

＊Previously on＊

Because Caranthir’s sharp tongue knew no bounds—even going so far as to publicly hurl insults at the Valar like his father. Mandos placed a restriction on him during his rebirth. Every word he spoke would now come out as its opposite, and this would remain in effect until he learned to speak properly.

＊＊＊

1.

Morifinwë didn’t feel like talking today.

But the reason he didn’t want to talk was that he had been cursed.

Thinking back, from Morgoth to Elu Thingol of Doriath, and even his cousins, he had spent thousands of years verbally tearing into anyone without mercy. Not even the mightiest of the Ainur had escaped his scathing words.

And so, when Mandos reshaped his body, added a small restriction.

2.

He hadn’t really believed that his settings had been altered—at least, not until this morning.

“Moryo, why are you so quiet today?”

“……”

“Moryo, are you feeling alright?”

“……”

“Moryo, how’s breakfast?”

“Terrible.”

It was only after hoisting his brother up and giving him a good beating that Maedhros finally realized Moryo’s factory settings had indeed been modified.

3.

“So, did Mandos say how long this ‘blessing’ will last?”

He had meant to say curse.

“I asked. He said, ‘The restriction will remain until you learn to speak properly.’”

The moment Maglor finished speaking, he heard his brother launch into an effusive string of praise for Mandos. But from the sheer level of exaggerated flattery, he knew the original words must have been so vile.

At that moment, he suddenly felt grateful for the restriction—because if other elves overheard a royal family member saying such things, the House of Fëanor wouldn’t just be the most unpopular Elven house; they’d become the only one officially banned from speaking in public.

“Still, Moryo, your sacrifice wasn’t in vain. This is the first time I’ve learned that an elf’s factory settings can actually be modified.”

“Then could you ask him to just format me completely?”

“……”

Later, Maglor actually asked. Mandos’ exact words were: The House of Fëanor was defective upon creation. Formatting will not fix the issue.

[kyle-h213846]

It’s just some cute brotherly interactions—Fingolfin and Finarfin have a great relationship, but it’s probably not the same with their older brother.

At first, I wanted to draw it like the classic scene from The Lion King, but Finarfin’s expression might have ended up looking weird, so I gave up in the end.

（Additional clarification: Although I haven't drawn it yet, Finarfin's hair is not short; it's just that at this point, it hasn't reached its full length.）